Journey's End
by The Ascended Ancient
Summary: AU S6. Overcome by grief over Buffy's death, Dawn runs away from home. On her own, she meets a new friend on his own journey, one that leads both of them back to Sunnydale, and a confrontation with evils within and without that will test them both.
1. Alone

_**Journey's End**_**  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor am I making any money from this story. However, all characters, story concepts, etc. that are the direct product of my imagination are my property, and cannot be reproduced in any form without my express written consent.**

**Chapter I  
"Alone"**

_"I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do…"_

The words played over and over in her mind, an endless torture, a gift from a world that had clearly decided she hadn't suffered enough.

_"Tell Giles that I figured it out, and that I'm ok…"_

She had. She'd spoken those very words, and it hadn't made either of them feel any better.

_"And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of each other now…"_

Her friends… their friends… were crying when she got back down from the tower. They were still crying when her legs finally gave out and she fell to the ground, tears soaking her dress.

_"Dawn the hardest thing in this world is to live in it."_

Of all the things that had been said, that was the part Dawn agreed with. This world was hard. It was cruel. It was filled with so much evil that no one, not even a Slayer, could make it a safe place. And then this town… it had taken her mother and sister from her in a matter of months. It was the Hellmouth, the epicenter of evil and cruelty in a world that never lacked either of those things anywhere.

Someone took her hand. It was a man – Xander? Spike? Giles? Dawn didn't look up to see. Her eyes were too filled with tears; she couldn't see much of anything. That was the way it should be though. The world around her wasn't anything worth seeing anyway.

Before long, she was in her house, being led up to her room. Willow came in later and tried to say something soothing, but it didn't come out right. In the end, Dawn went to bed that night alone.

Alone. That's how she was now. Her family was gone. Her friends would try to fill the gap, the hole in her life, but they would never be able to. She felt as if her heart had been ripped right out of her and consumed by the Hellmouth that had caused her family so much grief over the years. It was a wound that she knew would never heal.

Dawn reached under her bed and pulled it out. She'd stolen it from Buffy over two years ago, back when she was still secretly jealous of her older sister being the Slayer. None of those memories were real, though, of course. Just like her, they were a creation of some monks. Her mom and Buffy had lives. They deserved to live, not her. Someone who wasn't real shouldn't be given the gift of life that so many others were being deprived of. So many others, so many more deserving people. _Buffy…_

She touched the cold metal of the knife's blade to her wrist. She should've died already, up on that tower. Her life was an abomination; her existence had destroyed those she was supposed to care about. She should do the world a favor. She was about to do the world a favor.

_"Live."_

Buffy's last words entered her mind again as she gripped the hilt, almost ready to press down and finish this.

_"Live. For me."_

"I can't," Dawn whispered in between sobs. "This isn't right."

_"The hardest thing in this world is to live in it."_

"I can't live in it. Not without you."

_"Live. For me."_

The tears streamed faster as she dropped the knife to the ground. An hour passed by with nothing to hear but her muffled sobs before Dawn spoke again, "Not here."

She leapt out of bed, her grief pushed aside for a moment by a sense of purpose. She grabbed clothes, some money, and a few snacks she had lying around her room into a bag. Tying her bed sheets together, she climbed out her window and walked off into the night.

This town had destroyed her life. This Hellmouth had taken everything she'd ever loved and stolen it away from her. She would live, for Buffy if not for herself. But she couldn't do it in this town. Not any more.

A few miles away, Dawn Summers climbed onto a bus. She paid the fare and sat down in the back. She didn't know where it was going, and she didn't really care. Anywhere was better than here.

**End of Chapter I**

**A/N: A very dark opening to a story that will have quite a bit of darkness in it. For those out there who want to read more, REVIEW!!!!!**


	2. The Meeting

**Chapter II  
"The Meeting"**

When Dawn walked into the dark and smoky bar that night, she was desperate. It'd been two months since she'd left home, two months of struggling to survive. With no job and little money, she'd begun selling everything but the clothes on her back to be able to buy food. Now she was left with nothing but a dirty t-shirt and a pair of threadbare jeans. The money had long since dried up, and she was always hungry now.

Stepping into this dive, she noticed a woman quickly move away from her. Dawn still attempted to bathe, but opportunities were few and far between. She was certain that she didn't smell all that ripe – yet – but the dirt and grime all over her face and hair probably made for an unpleasant image.

She made a beeline for the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with as many people as possible. If she had to steal tonight, she didn't want anyone to be able to remember much about her. Not that she was very eager to steal again. The first and last time she'd tried that it hadn't gone so well. The cops had been called, and she barely got away with her sandwich. It was an experience she was in no rush to repeat. No, she had a different plan for tonight.

Dawn washed up as best she could. She wasn't in a high-class establishment; the sink let out only a slow dribble of water, the soap dispenser didn't work, and there were no paper towels anywhere. Nevertheless, she felt she did a good job with what little she had. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back out into the bar. Now came the part she had been dreading, something she had prayed right from the very beginning that she wouldn't have to do.

"What's your name?" She walked right over to a table in the corner, where a rather scruffy-looking man was sitting all by himself. Dawn had noticed him staring at her when she first walked in, and when she saw that he still was when she emerged from the bathroom, she knew she had her chance. She leaned against the wall and struck the sexiest pose she could before forcing out the question.

"Hn," was his reply, his long, greasy hair falling into his face as he turned to face her. "You're kind of young for this place."

"Oh, I'm old enough," Dawn told him, twirling a finger through her hair like she'd seen those sluts doing at school.

"I'm sure." The man sipped his beer. His eyes remained locked on her. The look they had, it was something that she'd never seen before. It was the kind of look that sent a chill down her spine, and made her nerves even worse.

"I'm Dawn," she said, sliding into the seat next to him, leaning in close. "I noticed you looking at me."

Silence. He wasn't giving her much to work with.

"Do you, uh, live around here?"

"Mmhm." This time he gave her a nod and a grunt before taking another swig of his beer.

Confusion and indecision wracked Dawn's mind. The way he had been looking at her – the way he was _still_ looking at her – there was something there. Yet while his eyes never left her, he acted as though he didn't care at all.

"So, was it a long day?" She reached across to rest her hand on his wrist, tracing slow circles across skin that felt rough and calloused. A thin smirk appeared on his face for a moment; not much, but it gave her hope, at least until he spoke again.

"How much?" The statement sent a shock wave down her spine as his hand wrapped around hers, their fingers intertwined. Dawn tried to pull her hand back, fear overwhelming the needs that had driven her there. He didn't let go. "How much?"

"I… no, uh, you're wrong, I don't want…"

"No, you do. Using your body for money. It's an easy job." There was some venom in his voice. "Don't even have to do anything half the time. Just lie back and spread your legs."

"No." Dawn was struggling now, pulling at her arm as hard as she could to break free of his iron grip. "No, please, I didn't want… I just wanna go."

"A minute ago you wanted something. What was it?"

"Just… just some food. Please, I just wanted some food."

"Sex for food. Good bargain. On both ends." He stood up, Dawns hand still clutched in his. "Come on."

"Wait! Where are… Where are you taking me?" Her questions went unanswered as the man pulled her – gently yet forcefully – out onto the street.

"Someplace you'll get food," he replied. Dawn's stomach rumbled at the thought of a meal, but her panic barely eased. He hadn't loosened his grip; she was going with him wherever he wanted to take her.

They moved quickly, and the ache Dawn felt in her stomach quickly spread to her feet. Just when she couldn't move any further, he tugged her into an alley and let her go. She fell to her knees, eyes darting everywhere in an effort to get her bearings.

"Hey, homes. Whatchu doin' here?" It was a fat man, getting up off a stoop and walking their way.

"Giving you a new employee," the scruffy man from the bar told him. "She's young. Sexy. Willling to work just for food. You'll like her."

"Hmm. She do got a nice look about her, I'll give you that. Could do with some cleanin' up though." He looked her over once more. "Yeah, she'll do." Her heart racing, Dawn took a real look around her. There were a few other men lurking about, but what really struck her were the women. They were standing at the mouth of the alley, dressed in next to nothing, waving at cars.

"No," she whispered.

"Come on, chiquita," the fat man said with a chuckle. "You and me are gonna make a whole lotta money." He turned to the man from the bar. "How much you want for her?"

"No price. Just take her off my hands."

"NO!" Dawn screamed, scrambling for a way out. She didn't get far.

"Oh, where are you goin' chiquita?" said one of the other men, who grabbed her before she could get anywhere close to safety.

"No, please, I don't wanna do this. I don't want this." Tears flowed like a river down her face.

"It's ok, baby." The fat man laughed as he walked over to her. "You'll learn to like it." He reached out to grope her chest, and Dawn shut her eyes, bracing for what now seemed inevitable. It never came.

"AHHHHH!" The fat man's scream echoed through the still night air. Opening her eyes, Dawn saw her companion from the bar gripping the other man's wrist, holding his arm at an angle that was just not natural.

"Let her go." His words were spoken softly, yet carried so much power. The man holding her didn't need to be told twice. The moment Dawn was free, she took off, running out of the alley on weak, unsteady legs. Hunger, exhaustion, the stress she had just been through, it all weighed heavily on her, and she didn't get more than a few feet before stumbling and falling to the ground.

"Here." There he was, standing next to her, extending a hand. Dawn ignored it, climbing to her feet on her own, the emotional whirlwind she was feeling focusing into a single sensation.

"You bastard!" she screamed. "What the hell… Who do you… You bastard!" She slapped him. "All I… and then you… Argh!" She slapped him again. And again. The slapping turned into punching, her fists slamming against his chest again and again while her screams became louder and more incoherent. The whole time he just stood there, an unmoving statue, a target for her rage. When she was finally finished, finally so exhausted she couldn't even stand, he reached out and caught her. Cradling her in his arms, he lifted her up and began walking. Dawn didn't know where he was taking her, but at that point she was too weak to care. Her life had become a living nightmare; there was no escape from it. One last word escaped her mouth before sleep claimed her. One last cry into the night.

"Buffy…"

**End of Chapter II**

**A/N: Ok, this was a brutal chapter. Sorry to anyone who feels I was too harsh on Dawn, but… well, this is a dark story. If there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and I stress the "if" part, it'll be a long way in coming.**

**Also, I love the reception I've gotten for this fic so far. Reviews are very important to me. Reading how much someone enjoys my story gets me pumped up and makes me devote that much more time to the next chapter. So the point is, keep up with the REVIEWING!**


	3. Questions

**Chapter III  
"Questions"**

The light hurt her eyes when she woke up. Bright rays, streaming through her window, illuminating the room she'd grown up in, the only home she knew. Dawn wondered if it was a school day, if she'd slept through her alarm. If she had, mom would…

_VVRRRRRMMM!!!!_ An eighteen wheeler blew by just a few feet away, its wake sending the garbage that littered the ground around her spinning into the air. Up above her the blinding light of the streetlamp continued to shine down on her, and as she stirred she felt the rocky gravel digging into her back. She took this all in, and a quiet sob tore through her body.

"Here." The voice was accompanied by a tantalizing smell. Dawn looked over her shoulder, and there he was. "It's beef stew," he said, indicated the bowl in his hands. The man from the bar. The one who had…

"What...? Why…? What…?" A million questions tried to escape her at once, none of them emerging coherent, as she remembered what had happened. Anger began to well up inside of her as she remembered the hands that had grabbed her, the hands that would've continued to grab her…

"You said you were hungry," was his answer as he set the bowl down on the ground in front of her. Turning away, he walked over to a fire that burned in a nearby garbage can. The flames cast eerie shadows on the walls of this alcove, this small shelter at the base of a building on the edge of a highway. A pot was sitting on top of the can, supported by metal wire, and he proceeded to stir its contents.

Dawn lay there for a few moments, her head spinning. Unable to make sense of anything, she just reached for the bowl. He was right; she was famished.

She finished her meal just as her… companion was pouring himself a bowl. He sat down against the far wall, near a worn out duffle bag. He was the definition of stoicism. She decided to be tactful, the food having calmed her mood a little. "Um, what is this? What you're doing, I mean." He didn't reply. "You know, the stew was delicious. Thank you. But what happened earlier tonight, you've got to explain that to me." Still nothing. Dawn felt a little irked. "We can start slow. You never told me your name."

"No, I didn't." It was spoken in barely more than a whisper, and Dawn clenched her jaw in frustration.

"Well, you've got to have a name. So what is it?" Another truck drove by on the highway, the sound of its engine echoing through the stillness. "Look, I've got to have something to call you. So what is it?"

"It's whatever you want it to be." He turned to his bag and started to rummage through it. Before he could find what he was looking for, Dawn was crouched down in front of him, forcing herself into his field of vision. Her patience was used up.

"You're not going to ignore me," she growled. "You practically sold my ass to a goddamn pimp, you owe me some explanations." The man just looked back down at his bag, continuing his search through it.

"You know what, you can go to hell!" Dawn was yelling and ranting now, and pacing around the alcove as she did. "I don't know what you think this is, but I'm not here for you to fuck around with."

"Seemed to me that was exactly what you wanted a few hours ago." He got up too. Built like a brick house and standing at least a foot taller than her, he in some ways appeared quite intimidating. Dawn wasn't afraid, though. She was too angry to be afraid.

"What are you talking about? I never…"

"So why did you come over to me in the bar? What did you want from me then?"

"I wanted food. I was hungry."

"But what were you willing to do to get it?"

"Wha…"

"Because I think you were looking for someone to 'fuck around' with you then." Everyone was silent for a moment after that.

"I wasn't…" Dawn couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence, to speak aloud the denial that she'd been preaching to herself. Something about the way his pale blue eyes were boring into her own shattered through that deception. "You were trying to teach me a lesson?" she wondered aloud. "You were never going to give me to the pimp, were you? It was all just some kind of messed up test?" As she spoke, his face broke out of its mold for the first time since she'd met him, his features grimacing in the most excruciating way as she offered her forgiveness. "Are you all right?"

"Hn." He sat back down and returned to studying his bag. Dawn stood over him, unsure of what to say. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and then he pulled two wool blankets out of his bag.

"This will keep you warm tonight," he explained, tossing her one. "Use your clothes as a pillow. That's worked for me for a long time."

"Wait, what?" That expression was still on his face, but it was mixed with something else. It looked to her like exhaustion.

"Tomorrow, go to the old textile mill on the outskirts of town," he continued. "It's a temp agency now. The owner will place you somewhere that can make you a little money. So you'll never have to sell yourself for food again."

"Um, thank you. I think," was her response. "But why are you doing this?"

"Because it wasn't a test," he whispered. Dawn stared at him agape, even more confused than ever. "And I just can't do this anymore."

Dawn opened her mouth to say… something. To ask for an explanation, to yell at him again, there was just something that needed to come out. She never got the chance to speak a word, though, because he suddenly took off running. He dashed out of the alcove, across a small field, and out onto the highway. Then he stopped, right in the middle of the road. A car swerved to avoid him. The truck wasn't so lucky.

It must've been going at least seventy or eighty miles per hour, but it stopped short the moment it hit him. The cab was crushed instantly, broken glass from the windshield flying everywhere. Further back, the cargo trailer crumpled under the force of its momentum. Then it all exploded. The fireball reached up into the sky, and the shockwave of the blast could even be felt from where Dawn was still standing, utterly stunned at what had just happened.

After a minute, when the shock that was keeping her in place abated, she ran out towards the wreckage. Metal parts and burning puddles of gasoline were everywhere, and right in the middle of it all was him. He lay on the ground, impaled on no less than three pieces of the truck, his body half burned to a crisp. And his eyes were still open, still moving around.

"Oh my god," Dawn whispered, racing to his side. "Don't worry. I'm going to get help."

"_NO_!" he croaked, blood spewing from his mouth as he spoke. "Please. Just let me die."

**End of Chapter III**

**A/N: This chapter was a bitch to write. The dialogue between Dawn and "him" took a while to really get to the point where I thought it worked.**

**Well, the mystery continues. If you're enjoying this so far, remember to review. Other than that, just stay tuned, because more is coming soon.**

**Also, I'm aware that between the language of this chapter and the events of the last one, this story might be pushing a higher rating than I gave it. I'm used to writing T-rated stories, but this one is pulling in a higher direction. I haven't made up my mind whether or not to up the rating; that'll depend on how the future chapters come out. If anyone has any thoughts on this, please let me know.**


	4. No Choice

**Chapter IV  
"No Choice"**

_"I'm going to kill you."_

Dawn thumbed through the folders in the file cabinet before finding the one she was looking for. Filing papers for a business was tedious work, but it would pay for dinner tonight. James Davis did just what he was supposed to when she went to see him that morning, just like he said he would.

Yet again, her thoughts turned back to _him_. How he'd lay there, his body torn open and burned to a crisp in so many places. She'd stayed there beside for what seemed like an eternity.

"Please," he'd croaked. "Finish it. I need to die. _You_ need me to…" He'd trailed off, the pain of his wounds causing him to pass out. A few minutes later, help arrived. The cops pulled her away from him as the paramedics loaded him into an ambulance. They questioned her about what happened, and she told them what little she knew. As they spoke, news crews showed up and started trying to muscle their way in to get statements. They'd bombarded her the moment the cops were finished; so many people asking so many questions it was overwhelming. She just pushed through and ran over to the cop who had promised to take her to the hospital. To him. She didn't know why she wanted to go. She just knew that she had to know if he was going to be alright.

She arrived to the shock that he was in fact going to survive. There had been a close call at the beginning – his vitals dropped suddenly in the midst of an inexplicable seizure – the doctors had managed to stop the bleeding and patch up the wounds faster than they felt should've been possible. He was already in recovery, and she took a seat at his bedside as soon as she got there.

It was an hour before he regained consciousness. By the time he did, however, Dawn was struck by how good he looked for a man who should be on his deathbed. His skin, which had been charred black by the explosion, was still quite dark in color, but there were no more spots that looked like strips of bacon. She could even make out a tattoo of a cross on his chest. At this point the most damaged part of him was his hair. The long, greasy black locks and the scraggly beard she had become so used to had been almost entirely burned away; all that remained were a few patches here and there.

"No…" His first word was spoken so softly that it took Dawn a few minutes to realize that he'd spoken.

"It's ok," she said soothingly. "You're in the hospital. The doctors say you'll make a full…"

"Why are you here?" Dawn was taken aback.

"I-I couldn't just leave you there."

"You should've." Dawn sighed.

"Look, I don't know what happened tonight…"

"I tried to force you into becoming a sex slave." The coldness of his gaze, the fierceness of his words, it sent a chill down her spine. "And if you stay with me, I'm going to kill you."

"What…"

"Leave me. Now." Dawn just sat there, too stunned to move. His expression softened. "Please. It's for your own good."

She'd left then, but those words had been stuck in her head ever since. _"I'm going to kill you."_ He wasn't the friendly type, and there was certainly an edge about him, but he'd never struck her as someone who would harm her. But the way he said those words, she knew as clearly as she knew that the sky was blue that he'd meant it. No matter how many times she mulled it over in her mind, it always made her shudder.

Dawn walked out of work that day with fifty dollars in her pocket. It was an amazing feeling, to know that she would be able to afford to eat tonight. She chose McDonald's, a cheap meal that wouldn't burn into her limited cash reserves. A sad grin crossed her face at that thought. Two months ago, fifty dollars would've been blown overnight on a new pair of shoes or a cute top. So much had changed so quickly. She barely recognized her life anymore.

She took a walk after dinner. Her mind was racing, and she needed time to think. Dawn had been all over since she'd left home, but now the idea of staying here in Salt Lake City was starting to appeal to her. It was probably the work and the money that was most appealing; it was a taste of stability, the first she'd had in so long, and it felt good. It gave her hope. Then she thought about _him_. Staying here meant staying near him, and she couldn't figure out if that was something that should concern her or not. It was all just too damn confusing.

Her walk took her all over the city, and before long it was night again. For a moment she was tempted to find a hotel and sleep on a bed for a change, but immediately changed her mind. Even a cheap one would cost too much; an alley would have to continue to do. That was what she was looking for when it happened.

Out of nowhere, a man darted out across the street, running like his life depended on it. He was glancing back behind him every so often, and while doing that he tripped over the curb and fell flat on his face. Dawn got a bad feeling about this almost immediately, and crouched down behind a parked car, out of sight but still able to see. And what she saw was the fat pimp from last night, his arm in a sling, picking himself up off the ground. He looked all around him, a panicked expression on his face. She didn't have to wonder what he was afraid of for long.

They slipped out of the shadows so seamlessly that Dawn thought they weren't real at first. But there they were, three vampires, game faces on, closing in on the pimp. She was close enough that she was able to hear what they said.

"Please. I'll do anything you want," he sobbed. "Just don't hurt me."

"Now that is the attitude I was looking for," one of the vamps, a tall one with distinguished features, said. "Much better than his earlier responses, wouldn't you say boys?" There were murmurs of assent from the other two vamps. "So, before I do to you what I did to those delicious whores of yours, why don't you tell me everything you know about your visitor last night."

"I-I don't know anything."

"Tsk. Tsk. Not a good answer. And I'm starting to feel thirsty again."

"Look, I never seen the guy before. He just shows up outa the blue and tries to give me a new whore. The chiquita was real cute, too; coulda made me a shitload of money. But before I could finish checking her out, he breaks my arm and takes her away."

"Hmm," the tall vampire stroked his chin. "How did he break it?"

"E-Excuse me?"

"Oh, how silly of me. Let me be clearer." The vamp reached out and grabbed the pimp's broken arm, causing the fat man to scream. "How did he break your arm?"

"He just… he just grabbed it and pulled. The son of a bitch was mad strong, yo." The vamp smiled, his fangs gleaming in the light from the streetlamp.

"Thank you," he said. "You don't know how helpful you've been." Then he bit him. They all bit him, the tall one on the neck, the other two on the wrists. It was a giant feeding frenzy for a few seconds before the pimp dropped lifelessly to the ground.

"Well, gentlemen, I think we've found who we're looking for," the tall vamp declared when they were finished. "The seers were right; last night has opened the door to our miracle even more so than we could've anticipated. We now have _him_ in our sights. He's vulnerable, more so than ever before. Kill him now, and we shall have a place in the Lord's court for all eternity. Che'sao'eeanubis!"

"Che'sao'eeanubis!" The others echoed. The tall one placed a hand on each of his companions' shoulders.

"To the hospital, my brothers." Just as they had arrived, the three vampires vanished into the night. Dawn just sat there, stunned at what she'd just heard. She knew they were talking about the same 'him' who was torturing her mind so much. They were on their way to kill him right now, and considering his current state she felt they would be able to with ease. She wracked her brain, searching for the answer to a question that was tearing her up inside: what should she do?

_"I'm going to kill you."_ The words repeated themselves again in her mind. If she saved him now, she might be dooming herself later. That was assuming, of course, she survived the rescue attempt. If she didn't get him out of there in time, if it came down to a fight between her and three vampires, she was doomed. Dawn wasn't a Slayer, she couldn't handle a fight like that. In fact, intellectually she knew that if she got involved in this, she was more than likely going to end up dead. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized there wasn't really any choice at all.

Twenty minutes later, she arrived at the hospital. She'd run all the way there, desperately trying to beat the vamps to it. The secretary remembered her, and let her through without difficulty.

_I'm sorry, Buffy_, Dawn said silently while she was in the elevator. _But the monks made me more like you than we thought._

"Ah, welcome back," the orderly on duty greeted her. "He's been doing real well today. We've even made some progress on finding out who he is. His father's in there with him right now."

_His father?_ Dawn wondered, but she didn't have time to really consider it. The vamps could show up any minute, and she needed to get him out of here. So the moment she reached his room, she just threw the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

The first thing she noticed was that he had healed so much more since she'd left. There were even spots scattered over his body where his skin actually looked healthy. The second thing she noticed was the other man in the room, whose eyes were wide in shock behind a pair of oval-rimmed glasses.

"Dawn?"

"Giles?"

**End of Chapter IV**

**A/N: Another chapter down. Keep letting me know what you guys think. I'm pretty sure I've made this clear by now, but I love reviews!**


	5. The Search

**Chapter V  
"The Search"**

Rupert Giles woke up in another hotel room in another strange city. He showered and dressed in tweed, wolfing down what was left of last night's sandwich along the way, before grabbing his single suitcase and checking out. The hotel, like so many of the others, provided transportation to the local bus terminal. Taking advantage of this, Giles found himself staring at another destination board before noon. Richfield, Monroe, Kingston, Escalante, Boulder, Salina, Centerfield… there were so many names, so many places, and he couldn't search them all.

This had been his routine, what he had gone through almost every day for two months. He'd stayed in Sunnydale only long enough for the funeral. After she was finally laid to rest, finally at peace, he knew he had to go. He owed it to her to leave, to do now what she couldn't. He owed it to Buffy to bring her sister home.

Dawn's disappearance had been just one more shock after a night that had shattered all of their hearts. Willow locked herself in her dorm, and according to Tara hadn't stopped crying all day. Spike vanished off to god knows where, and Anya became even more obsessed with her work at the shop than usual. As for Xander, he was the only one of them who acted anything close to normal, but anyone who knew him could see how badly he was hurting. That day was the longest time Giles could ever remember Xander going without cracking one joke.

The funeral was a week later, and then he was off. He was the only one who could; they couldn't call the police because then child protective services might end up moving in and taking Dawn away. Willow helped him out at first; the locator spell she cast gave him some good early leads. After a few days, though, it stopped working. He'd called and asked her to cast it again, and she had – several times, in fact. Tara tried it, hell, even he tried it, but nothing seemed to work. For a brief moment their hearts were broken all over again. Giles had even gotten on a bus home before he learned the truth. Dawn was still with them; at least, that was what they hoped.

_The world has no respect for the dead,_ Giles had thought when he finally received the call. Buffy was barely in the ground, and already the world she'd given her life to protect was in danger again. The Council didn't know what was wrong, but a locator spell not working was considered to be the least of their problems. For the briefest moment that day, Giles was about to press for details, to learn all he could about this new crisis. He knew that he would need the information to help his…

Giles ended the call. His Slayer was dead. He couldn't do anything with the information the Council could've given him; that was for another Watcher and his Slayer to mull over. Turning his attention back to finding Dawn, he began his search the old fashioned way. He moved from city to city, asking around, showing her picture, just searching for some trace of her. In some places, he found it, whether it was a pawn shop owner who she'd sold her necklace to or a police detective who had far less positive things to say about her and the theft she had allegedly committed at a diner. Most of the time, however, he left town the same way he was leaving now, dejected and wondering where this search was even going. He'd gone through California, Oregon, Nevada, and now he was in Utah. Even if he went to all fifty states, there was no guarantee he would find her. She might not even be in the country anymore.

_Kingston_, he finally decided. It was nothing but a random guess, but that was all he had. Because he couldn't give up, he couldn't walk away from this. No matter what, he had to find her.

"Buffy's alive." Willow called him while he was waiting on line for his ticket, and of all the things she could've said, he wasn't expecting that. Giles listened in shock as she described the spell she had performed last night. His heart, which he had thought couldn't suffer any more pain that it already had, nearly broke yet again when he heard about how Buffy had been forced to dig her way out of her own grave. He even felt gratitude towards Spike for a change when he learned that he had talked a traumatized and delirious Buffy out of jumping off the tower again. And when she was finally finished filling him in, he didn't know whether to yell at her or thank her.

"We haven't told her about Dawn yet," Willow added. "Do you… do you have any leads?" Giles sighed in frustration. The last thing he wanted to say was no, he didn't have any idea where she was. That was the last thing Buffy needed to hear right now.

Then his eyes locked on one of the TVs that were hanging on the wall. "I-I might have something," he whispered. A few minutes later he got to the ticket console. "One ticket to Salt Lake City, please."

Giles reached the hospital that night. He told the secretary that he was the victim's father – dropping a name he made up on the spot excited the staff who were still baffled by their patient's identity – and he was escorted right up to his room.

"William, your father is here," the nurse announced as they walked in. Lying on his bed, his flesh horribly discolored, the focus of Giles' search looked up at him with cold blue eyes.

"Leave us here," he told her. The chipper young woman was taken aback by his response, but she did as he asked. "Who are you?" he demanded as soon as they were alone.

"My name is Rupert Giles. Dawn Summers is a friend of mine, and when I saw on the news that she was with you last night, well, I'm hoping you might know something about where she is." Silence was his only response. "Please, I need to find her. She ran away from home, and we're all worried sick about her." Nothing. "Look, I'm sorry. I know this is probably a bad time for you, but please, I really need to find her. I need to know that she's safe." He turned away. "God damnit, I know you know something about her, so answer me!" Giles sighed in frustration; this was turning out to be another dead end. He saw Buffy's face in his mind's eye, saw her as she would be if he was forced to tell her that her sister…

The door opened, and Giles' eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Dawn?" There she was, standing just a few feet away. After all this time of searching for her, it didn't seem real.

"Giles?" He couldn't help himself; he dashed across the room and threw his arms around her.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're alright." Giles pulled away slightly. "Dawn… Buffy's alive." Her eyes widened.

"Tha-That's not possible."

"Willow cast a spell," the he explained.  
"A Hecate resurrection spell." The wounded man's comment took Giles off guard.

"Yes. How did you know?" Yet again, he got no response.

"Giles, I…" Dawn spoke up before Giles could press his questioning. "I don't… Look, right now we just need to get him out of here. There are three vampires on their way and they're going to kill him."

"What?"

"Good." The response from their bedridden companion took them both by surprise.

"What…?"

"You have got to be kidding me!" Dawn exclaimed, cutting Giles off. "I ran all the way over here to try and save you and you still just want to die?"

"I told you to leave me. You chose not to listen."

"Well when I see a bunch of vamps speaking in a weird language and talking about killing someone I'm not about to just…"

"What language?" he interrupted. Dawn paused for a moment.

"I don't know. It sounded like gibberish to me." He closed his eyes for a moment.

"I need to know what they said. What exactly did what they said sound like?"

"I don't know. Che'sao'something." He became very pale.

"What was the last part?"

"I don't…"

"_What was the last part?_" Dawn was taken aback by his reaction.

"Um… uh… oh, it was eeanubis. Che'sao'eeanubis." He lay there for a moment, his eyes wide as saucers. Then he began ripping every sensor and other piece of medical equipment off of him.

"What are you doing?" Dawn demanded.

"We need to move," he replied, climbing out of bed… and falling to the ground immediately.

Dawn was at his side immediately. "Giles, help me." Still unsure of exactly what was going on, Giles did as he was asked, and the two of them lifted the injured, naked man off the floor.

"Um, Dawn, how exactly do you plan to get him out of the building?" the Watcher asked.

"Doesn't matter how," he responded before Dawn could. "We all need to get out of here before…" The door swung open, and the nurse dropped through, blood dribbling from her neck.

"Well, well. Long time no see." A tall vampire stepped through the door, two companions at his sides. "I'd always hoped it would end this way."

**End of Chapter V**

**A/N: Well, got nothing more to say besides REVIEW!!!!!**


	6. It Begins

**Chapter VI  
"It Begins"**

"I'd always hoped it would end this way." The tall vampire spoke those words with a cruel grin on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Dawn saw Giles reach into his coat for something, but what it was she didn't find out. All three vamps moved fast, the two at the flanks grabbing her and Giles, the tall one – the trio's leader, she supposed – slammed his foot into the chest of their wounded companion. The man Dawn had met last night, the man she had come here to try and save, flew through the air, slamming hard into the wall before falling to the ground. "I always wanted to be the one to kill you."

"Lawrence," the man croaked. "J-Just get it over with. You don't need to… you don't need to kill anyone else. I'm right here." The vampire laughed.

"Oh, no," the vamp, Lawrence, responded. "After all, my boys need to eat too." The other two vamps joined in the laughter. Dawn looked around frantically. _There has to be something…_

"Oh, how low you've fallen," Lawrence continued. "You're begging for the end now, aren't you?" He laughed again. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day. Darko always insisted you'd break, but I never believed him. What did it, anyway? What pushed you over the edge?" There was no response.

_At least he doesn't just do that to me._ The wry thought brought a half second of mirth to Dawn before she returned her focus to what was really important: the nearby table, and the tray of medical instruments on it.

"Ah, who cares?" The vamp's rant went on. "But you know, I always thought you'd remain the same unstoppable bastard until the Great Lord returned to obliterate you." More maniacal laughter as Lawrence grabbed his victim by the throat and threw him back onto the hospital bed. "The real good part is that all you needed to do was last a few more days, and that's exactly what would've happened." The man's eyes went wide.

"No…" he whispered.

"Oh yes. Last night was the Amar'hol. It has begun." The wounded man just stared up at the cackling vampire for a few moments. Then it was the vamp who was flying across the room, thrown with a degree of force that didn't seem possible for someone as badly hurt as her companion from last night was. Just as stunned as she was, the vampire restraining her loosened his grip. Dawn wrenched herself free, not wasting a moment of this opportunity. The vamp lunged for her, his hand reaching for her throat.

Then the vamp was leaning against the wall, a splash of coagulated red fluid on its temple and a matching stain on the hospital tray. Dawn didn't give him time to react, she just hit him again. And again. And again. She kept it up for a few more minutes, until she realized that he hadn't been moving for some time.

Her opponent down, she turned to face the rest of the room. Lawrence was nowhere to be seen, while Giles was pressing a large wooden cross into the face of the vamp that had been holding him. Over by the table, that man was trying to get to his feet. He was looking better, stronger, but obviously still not strong enough. Over near the door, Giles let out a victorious grunt as he shoved the pointy bottom end of his cross into the vamp's heart, turning it into dust.

"Dawn, are you…" In midsentence Giles was grabbed by Lawrence as he charged back in through the door. The cross knocked from his grip, the Watcher was sent crashing into the floor.

"So, you still have some fight in you," the vampire snarled as the man he addressed finally managed to stand on his own. "Whatever happened to wanting it over?" Moving faster than even Lawrence, with his preternatural reflexes, could follow, the injured man crossed the room and slammed his fist into the vampire's face. Lawrence stumbled back but didn't miss a beat, sidestepping the next blow and shoving his knee into the man's gut.

A strong hand latching itself onto her shoulder captured Dawn's attention; that vamp had gotten back up. Unable to break his grip, she found herself shoved up against the wall, the vampire's bloody and broken face moving ever closer to her neck. Desperation seized her, and she reacted by shoving her knee between his legs. He screamed, and she moved. Forcing her way out of where she had been pinned, she wasn't able to escape him altogether, in their struggle they both ended up on the ground. He rolled them over and put his full weight on her, immobilizing her as he yet again moved in for the kill, only to real back in pain again, a scalpel that had been just within Dawn's reach sticking out of his eye.

Continuing this endless dance, Dawn scrambled to get to freedom, but the vamp remained hot on her heels. Slamming into her from behind, he sent her flying into the big window on the far wall, shattering it. Off balance and looking down at a five story drop from the ledge she was now teetering on. Oddly enough, what kept her from falling was the vampire, who grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her back to him, clearly determined to drink her blood. A demon in front of her, an abyss behind her, Dawn's struggles became frantic. She hit, spit, clawed, and bit the vamp, keeping him at bay with every ounce of strength she had. Spinning them around, she pushed backwards, placing the vampire at the edge of the abyss she had been at. She gave another shove, but he had grabbed onto the window frame and refused to go through it.

Just then a loud crash gave both of them pause. Whatever had happened since their own struggle had begun, it had destroyed the room. A whole wall had just come down, with Lawrence and that man throwing punches in the middle of the rubble. The vampire threw a punch intended to crush in the man's face, but he wasn't there when the fist arrive. He dropped down low and charged forward, knocking Lawrence to the ground. As they fell, he wrapped his hands around the demon's neck, as if to throttle someone who didn't need to breathe. Then, as incredibly as it seemed, he tore Lawrence's head from his shoulders. The severed head let out a painful wail, and then he was just a pile of dust.

"It can't be over," he declared to no one in particular as he brushed himself off. "Not if he's coming back."

"Dawn...?" Giles was coming to, his words causing the man's attention to turn to her. The vamp tightened its grip on her.

"I'll kill her," he growled. "I'll kill her."

_Oh no you won't._ Dawn shoved herself back as hard as she could, and his grip slipped. He reached out to get a better handhold, and that was when she pushed back again and…

And she was falling, a cloud of dust all around her. _The window frame was made of wood._ The air rushed by her as she fell, but the fear never came. There was a sense of peace, maybe even some joy at the thought. _Mom. Buffy. I'll be with you soon._ She closed her eyes and waited for it to happen.

Then she felt strong hands wrap around her. At first she thought it was over, but when she opened her eyes she was still falling. Only now she wasn't alone. The crash was softer on her than it should've been, than it could've been, because she didn't take the brunt of the fall. He did.

Oddly enough, he somehow looked healthier after the fall than he had before it; the discoloration of his skin had faded even more as the burns continued to heal rapidly. From where she was, laying on top of him, Dawn studied his expressionless face, struggling to find the words to say. Last night he had nearly ended her life, and tonight he had saved it. Her mind was spinning out of control.

"Who are you?" The words spilled out on their own. She didn't expect an answer, and she didn't get one.

"Dawn!" Giles cry was filled with panic as he stared down at them from the window.

"I'm ok," she called back, getting up off of him. She offered her hand, but apparently he didn't need it, as he got up perfectly fine on his own. "We're ok."

They got out of there as quickly as they could. As tragic as it was, the fact was the trail of bodies the vampires had left on their way in made it easy to leave the scene without anyone stopping them. They'd gotten halfway across town in silence before Giles reminded her of what, in the excitement, she had forgotten.

"Dawn, we need to get you home," he told her. "Whatever it was that made you leave, you can't keep running. Especially not now that Buffy's alive." _Alive._ The word echoed in her mind, the very idea barely believable. Emotions that had been unable to run their course when she'd first learned this news returned full force and overwhelmed her. Words refused to come to her; tears came instead.

"I-I… It's just…" Giles wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and the waterworks became sobs. They just stood there for a few minutes before she was finally able to formulate words again.

"I want to see her," she whispered. It was the only thing she knew for sure; she wanted to see her sister alive again.

"I want to see her too." It was him, the man who had fallen five stories and broken her fall, the man who was walking beside them as though nothing was wrong.

"What?" Giles eyes were wide with surprise.

"I need to see this Buffy," he repeated.

"Why?" Dawn asked. It was meant as a rhetorical question; he wouldn't answer her anyway.

"She's alive, when she should be dead." Dawn's jaw almost dropped through the ground. "That violates every natural law there is, and makes her the epicenter of all of this. Studying her is the first step towards stopping this."

"Stop what?" Giles inquired.

"The end," he replied. "The final battle. Their victory, our defeat. Armageddon."

**End of Chapter VI**

**A/N: Well, another chapter down, and things are heating up. What would a BTVS story be without the end of the world, anyway? I know I've said this way too many times, but REVIEW!**


	7. Home?

**To Becks Rylynn: To answer your questions, 1) I haven't revealed his name yet. It's a secret that – along with his backstory – will come in due time. 2) I haven't really thought of an actor to play him, although I modeled some of his cold, withdrawn attitude off of the character of Rorschach from Watchmen.**

**Chapter VII**

"**Home…?"**

It hadn't changed. The clothes on the floor, the makeup kit spilled out on the dresser, the rumpled covers, even the knife was still in the corner she'd thrown it. Her room was a memory frozen in time for her. One thing had changed though: when she left, this place was oppressive, filled with unbearable pain. Now, as she stood in the midst of so much familiarity, Dawn found herself feeling more at peace than she'd felt in a long time. And after today, she needed a little bit of that.

They'd taken the bus back from Salt Lake City early this morning. Her, Giles, and _him_. Xander met them at the station, wrapping her up in a big bear hug the first chance he got. It was warm and it was real, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut for a few moments to retain her composure. They got their stuff into his car – Giles' suitcase and that man's duffle – and a few minutes later they were at 1630 Revello Drive. They were home.

The swarm began before they even got out of the car. Willow led the charge, running out of the house and embracing Dawn with even more vigor than Xander had. Tara and Anya were right behind her, both women giving her a tear-filled greeting. The storm within her got stronger by the minute, her hands beginning to tremble as it threatened to overwhelm her. Then Buffy stepped out. She was there, and within a moment they were embracing.

Dawn had gotten away not long after that. She'd gone up and taken a shower, completely cleaning her body for the first time in so long. Now she was in here, her room, her sanctuary, a place where she could be away from everyone. Where she could be away from her sister.

"Dawn," she had said out there after they broke apart. "I-I'm just so glad you're back. I couldn't stand the thought of you out there on your own." Dawn just nodded and gave a halfhearted response. Her trembling had stopped. The storm had abated. The hard truth was staring her in the face, and she couldn't bear to look at it any longer.

A long-awaited noise from the hall brought her running out of her sanctuary just in time to catch him stepping out of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist as water dripped off of his chiseled physique. He'd healed remarkably during their daylong trip; the only mark on his skin now was that cross tattooed on his chest. Looking at his head, she noticed that he'd shaved off the last vestiges of his hair, the patches on his head and face that hadn't burned off in the explosion.

"How is she?" Her demand was issued immediately as she positioned herself in his path. He was going to answer this one. "You saw something in her. What was it?" When Dawn had pulled away from Buffy, he had stepped in. She turned to him and began to introduce herself, but then she suddenly trailed off. He was looking deep into her eyes, and she just stood there for a few moments, zombie-like, as he studied her. "Please," she pleaded. "I have to know."

"The dead aren't meant to be brought back," he responded after a few moments of silence. "She is your sister. She's also a Slayer." _Did I tell him that?_ Dawn wondered. "She'll recover. Probably." He pushed past her now, and she didn't try to stop him.

"Damn, Dawnie." It was her, standing at the base of the stairs. Dawn didn't know how long she'd been there for. "You do know how to pick them," Buffy continued, a wry grin on her face. "I mean, you're gone for two months and you come back with a hottie in tow." Dawn didn't even blush. There wasn't enough feeling in the teasing to get to her.

"It's not like that," she responded. "He saved my life." _After almost destroying it._ "And he said that something was coming." Buffy nodded.

"Yeah, Giles told me about Armageddon. I guess it wouldn't be a Hellmouth if somebody wasn't here trying to end the world." Even her punch lines just felt flat. "Did he tell you anything more specific?" Dawn shook her head.

"Just that he needed to come back here. That whatever it was, it was going down here." Giles had pressed him repeatedly on the trip back to reveal more, but he hadn't spoken a word the whole time.

"Well I hope he knows more than that. I can't stop it if I don't know what it is."

"Buffy!" Willow called from downstairs. "Giles found something!" Puzzled, Dawn followed her sister downstairs into the living room, where Giles was sitting on the couch rifling through a large book – a pose that she found oddly comforting in its familiarity.

"What is it?" Buffy inquired.

"I called the Council a few minutes ago," Giles explained, never taking his eyes off of the book. "They'd said something the last time we'd spoken, about a new threat, about the world being out of balance. I didn't care much for the details then, I didn't think I needed them because you were… Anyway, I just followed up on it, and – aha!" He held up the book for everyone to see what he had found. It was an illustration, a depiction of a shadowy figure, vague in its lack of features yet menacing nonetheless. "The Amar'hol. It's one of the only words that has survived from an obscure dialect used by Egyptian high priests. Literally translated, it means 'the beginning of the end.' Now, there isn't much written about what that means," he set the book back down, "but it does say that the Amar'hol will be preceded by a complete disruption in the world's magicks. Its natural forces will be thrown completely out of whack by some terrible event, and this will provide an opportunity for someone – or something – to bring about 'the era of darkness.'"

"'Era of darkness?'" Xander commented. "Couldn't they have come up with something better to call the end of the world?"

"What kind of terrible event are we talking about?" Buffy asked.

"Well, um," Giles became flustered. "I-I'm not entirely…"

"You're alive." Every turned around, and there he was. Dressed in an old, worn out leather tunic and chaps, he walked over and picked up the book. "The dead shouldn't be walking," he continued as he studied the pages. "After that dimensional disruption two months ago, the world couldn't handle any more powerful magicks that tore into its natural laws."

"Wait, dimensional… you're talking about Glory?" He turned to look at Willow.

"You knew, and you still did it?" His jaw twitched. "By bringing her back you turned a small problem into a total catastrophe." He started walking towards her. "You messed with forces way over your head, little girl," he growled, "and you may have just killed us all." Tara crossed the room fast, stepping between him and Willow as the whole room became very tense.

"She screwed up," Dawn declared. She looked over at Buffy, who was just standing there. It made her so sick she had to look away. "Now what do we do to fix it?" He turned towards her, and the fire in his eyes sent a chill down her spine. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then his expression returned to its usual blankness.

"Four days," he said. "That's how long it'll be before the world is able to fix itself. That's how long their window is. All that needs to be done is to stall them, delay what they're doing until it's too late."

"Sounds easy," Buffy commented.

"No. It won't be."

**End of Chapter VII**

**A/N: For those of you who haven't picked up on it yet, I'm obviously making Buffy a lot weaker after being resurrected than she was on the show. Now, I have good reason for doing this. After all, this story is about Dawn. So don't bite my head off for this.**

**I like the feedback I'm getting so far, but I know there are more people out there who are reading this story, so keep on reviewing and I'll keep on writing. Nothing motivates me more to get another chapter out than reading your reviews, so keep them coming.**


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